Dysfunctional? Yes Psychotic? Possibly
by leblover
Summary: Everyone knows the PJO crew has some serious issues. From daddy troubles to awkward love triangles to monster wars. There's no shortage of them for our heroes. So what would happen if they were all forced into therapy sessions? Complete chaos. But it couldn't hurt to try, right?


**A/N: Hey people. Thanks for taking the time to check my story out. This is like my 4th attempt at a PJO fanfic. If you were wondering, one of them turned out real well (you should read that one too, its called 'Take Me Higher'), but the others. . .not so much, so I deleted them. Anyway, I really really hope you guys will like this too. 'Cause I am gonna have a LOT of fun with this ;) Enjoy!**

**P.s. Rick Riordan is the genius, not me.**

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Dysfunctional? Yes. Psychotic? Possibly.

Chapter 1: Percy Jackson

. . .

Dr. Hanna calmly sat in his gray sofa-chair waiting—in what could only be described as a makeshift clinic—for his first patient to (quite literally) pop up. There was a hastily assembled bookshelf only half filled, located next to the long silvery colored couch facing him, and a modern glass coffee table where he balanced his premium mocha latte. Other than that, there was far too much empty space in the 100 sq. meter office complex.

Honestly, if Olympus was going to pay him to do his job, the least they could've done was pay for a decent interior designer. He knew the realm of the gods was still under construction after the Titan War, but still, _this_ was the best they could find? He'd have to ask Aphrodite about a good decorator later.

Before he could think further on that issue, his client finally showed up. . .out of thin air.

Dr. Hanna gave a friendly smile, "Ah, Mr. Jackson. So glad of you to finally drop. . ." he furrowed his brows at the sight before him. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

The boy, Percy, looked around the office nervously like a trapped animal. He was wearing khaki pants and dark sneakers. That was about it. No shirt. He did have a rockin six-pack though.

"Whoa, wait a sec," he said, still confused with the surroundings. "Where am I?" His frantic look finally focusing on the other man. "And who in Hades are you?"

He smiled again, extending his hand in greeting, "Dr. Hanna, your new psycho-therapist."

Percy looked back and forth between him and the hand like it came from an alien planet. "Whoa, I never signed up for a shrink, buddy. You must have the wrong guy. And why am I not at camp?"

He had been there a minute ago. On his bed at Cabin 3. Not wearing a shirt. With Annabeth. Doing. . . something. And NO, it was NOT what you're thinking it was. Well, maybe not _far off_ what you were thinking. Anyway, digressing here.

"You are Percy Jackson, correct? Son of Poseidon? The savior of Olympus?"

He (still) looked confused but nodded regardless.

The Doctor gestured to the couch. "Then please, have a seat. I'm here to analyze your psyche."

Percy didn't drop his suspicious glance just yet. "Who put you up to this? And please tell me it wasn't Hera, the Queen of being a pain in the ass."

He shrugged. "She had no objections to it. In fact, all the gods on Olympus agreed that you demigods need a bit of psyche evaluation. Which is quite a surprise, since you can't even get them to agree on anything short of waging war. That matter aside, please have a seat."

He obeyed, obvious in his reluctance though. "So. . . you're just gonna keep asking me questions for an hour before deciding whether or not to send me to the closest demigod loony bin? 'Cause those straightjackets really freak me out, Doc."

Dr. Hanna gave him a look. "This is therapy, not prison sentencing for psychopaths. The goal is to cure you."

"But I'm not sick. What's there to cure?"

He shrugged lazily, "Not even sane mortals have a clean bill of mental health. And really, what kind of half-blood would you be without a few complexes of your own?"

He sounded confused again, "Complexes?"

"Emotions, memories, thoughts, desires. Anything that can influence behavior and personality, including mental disorders."

He sighed, slowly nodding, "Point taken. So, what happens when we finish? I just become. . . cured?" It even sounded weirder than he thought. Like he was just some biology experiment for a pre-med student straight out of college. Dr. Hanna was a pretty good looking guy for someone approaching his 40's though. He radiated that smart, intellectual aura you'd get around children of Athena. Only problem was he didn't have the blonde hair and gray eyes to be one.

"Well, there's that. You become cured, accepting of yourself and your thoughts the way they are and whatnot."

". . .or?" Percy prodded.

"Or you could experience serious cases of denial and slowly sink into insanity."

Damn. He had a feeling this was going to blow up in his face one way or another. But insanity? That was a bit much. And he hadn't even agreed to any of this! No one gave him a choice or warning about it, just _poof_ you gotta take therapy, kiddo. The gods were seriously mind fucking with him again. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if they were watching him right now on Hephaestus TV or something.

The kid looked disturbed, "That's not comforting."

The older man smiled, "Welcome to psychology." He said, pulling out a pen and notepad. "Now, let's get started."

Percy took a deep breath before asking, "Can I at least go get my shirt first?"

His smile didn't even falter. "No."

! #$%^&*()

. . .

"So, let's talk about your family for a minute. What's your relationship like with your parents?"

Percy didn't know where to start, but he figured blunt honesty was probably the best way to deal with this. Shrinks just _love_ that shit.

"My mom is pretty great. I love her to death and everything. But my dad and I don't talk much. I mean, he's a god. I'm a mortal. Before the war there were these laws kinda restricting father/son conversations so. . ."

Dr. Hanna nodded in understanding, writing in a few notes in his pad. "When was the last time you spoke to each other?"

"Umm, about a year ago. He came to visit me at camp right after the Titan War."

He nodded again. "Do you love him?"

His patient looked taken aback. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Your father, do you love him?" he repeated. "You said you loved your mother but that you just didn't speak often with you father."

He blinked. "Yeah, uh, of course I love him." His voice sounded hoarse. Percy didn't like where this was going.

The Doctor arched a brow. "That didn't sound too convincing."

Percy responded, with more confidence, "I love him. It's just. . ."

"Just what?" he asked, leaning closer.

Percy buried his head in his hands. What in Tartarus was he saying? He loved his father. . .didn't he? Poseidon watched over him, protected him, loved him in his own unique ways. So why was he thinking otherwise? He thought he had this all figured out years ago. Apparently he didn't.

He raised his head, trying to think of something to say to that. "It's just. . .he's so. . .vague?" Ok, that was something. He could roll with that.

Dr. Hanna wrote a few more things on his pad, waving him to go on when he finished.

Percy continued, "I never know what he's thinking. And he doesn't tell me everything I need to know. I don't like being kept in the dark about my own life. He's so mysterious, and foggy, and unpredictable just like the sea. I don't know whether that just proves I'm his son or that he can't be consistent with anything like. . ."

He stopped himself. He didn't know what he was saying. He didn't know if he could finish what he was just about to say. There were many things that didn't sit well with Percy: monsters, disloyal friends, death, and flying just to name a few. But this was, by far, much worse than any of those things right now. This was opening some wounds he didn't even know existed.

The older man gave him a look of pity. "Like with your mother," he finished for him. "You're a good judge of character, Percy. And you've been known to be too trusting of others. But I've noticed recently, with Lord Poseidon you hesitate to judge. It's like he's straddling a line and you don't know which side he's on."

Percy stayed silent.

"It bothers you," he continued. "That your parents aren't together anymore. That they may still even love each other but can't be together."

Percy's eyes were starting to sting, and hearing the words that had bounced around in his brain from a doctor certainly wasn't helping. Gods did he want that. As much as he liked Paul, he wasn't his real father. Maybe that's all he ever wanted. Something real.

He tried for a smile, but it failed him instantly. "Is that a crime?" he asked, meaning it as a joke but without a hint of humor in his tone.

Dr. Hanna's voice was soft. "Of course it isn't."

"Now," he redirected. "Tell me about your childhood. Was it an enjoyable experience for you?"

Percy collected himself rather nicely before saying, flatly, "Nope."

"And why is that?" he asked.

He had to think over that one for a sec. And the more he thought, the harder he tried not to get angry about it. The more he thought, the more he realized that his life was just fucking messed up.

He took a deep breath. "I didn't have the greatest start in life, ya know. I had a step-dad who was a complete and utter douche, gambling any savings or money we had to spare, always putting me down. I even found out that he was abusing my mother. She never admitted it to me, but I figured it out."

Dr. Hanna's pen never even left the paper as the boy continued.

"And the schools. . ." he lamented. "They were torture in and of themselves. Plus I was ADD and dyslexic, so that just made it a nightmare. I got kicked out of most of them in the end, but I remember one time when I was younger; I was embarrassed to read in front of my class because I didn't know how to. There were bullies in every grade, and I didn't have any _real _friends till I met Grover. He was a satyr though so it was his job to lookout for me. My mother always sent me to boarding schools in the suburbs or even beyond them. Away from the city, away from home, and away from her."

Percy looked miserable, reminiscing his past and all the mistakes and wrongdoings that took place.

"This was before you found out you were a demigod, correct?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but it didn't make it any easier. Knowing that you dad was alive and that the world you lived in was a lie wasn't actually the best of news to get when you're twelve."

"True," the Doctor conceived. "But I'm more worried about how it affected you. What was your response to it?"

He smiled wistfully. "My first thought was that they were all insane." He laughed shortly. "But I came around after the whole 'god' thing and stuff."

The older man nodded, closing his notepad. "I think that will be enough for today, Percy. It's been a pleasure meeting you."

Percy furrowed his brows, "That's it? You're just letting me go now? We're done here?"

He smiled. "Not done, just taking a short break. I _do _have other clients to evaluate you know. You'll be seeing me soon, Percy. Have a good day." He finished, snapping his fingers.

Percy disappeared from the office before he could even reply, finding himself back at Cabin 3. He didn't know where the gods were going with this therapy thing or why they were even trying. But from the angry, irritated look a certain blonde was giving him, sitting on his bed, arms crossed over chest, and foot tapping impatiently like she'd been waiting very long for something, he did know one thing.

Annabeth was going to freaking murder him.

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**Please REVIEW! You have no idea how much that would make my day. Do you like my OC doctor? Was too serious, or not enough? I can't really tell, my beta hasn't replied to me yet (Sorry May!)**


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